


letting go

by R00M203



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Couch Sex, F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R00M203/pseuds/R00M203
Summary: scully admits she's never had an orgasm with a partner, mulder helps her work through it
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 14
Kudos: 108





	letting go

**Author's Note:**

> hi! @cherry_funk told me to write a fic where scully finishes for the first time in partnered sex w/mulder so i did. big thanks to her as always.

With a fistful of auburn hair, he runs his tongue up her neck. She closes her eyes and sighs a long sigh to the ceiling, her knees pushing into the tacky leather of his couch. Feeling him swell against her center, she rolls her hips forward to meet his extension. 

“God, Mulder,” she breathes into the thick air circling them. 

In response he sits up and quickly yanks her sweater over her head. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, wedging his face between her breasts. 

She scratches her fingernails against his scalp, humming quietly as he wraps his tongue around each swollen peak. 

Unclasping her bra behind her, he throws the padded lace to the floor and she whines. 

“I just bought that.” 

He pauses his movements and looks up at her. “I’ll appreciate it later, I promise,” he whispers with a smile, drawing her lips to his with his silky rasp. 

Her tongue traces the outline of his bottom lip before his mouth envelopes it completely. She moans into his throat and he grips his hands firmly around her waist. 

He stands up suddenly, flipping her onto the leather. He cradles her head protecting it from the arm of the couch. He pushes his lips against hers again, the sound of dripping tongues and desperate breath bouncing off the thin walls of his apartment. 

Tracing his tongue down the center of her body she murmurs, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m appreciating you right now,” he says into her stomach, pulling the skirt down with eager fingers. 

“Mulder, you don’t have–” he slips two fingers between her folds and she gasps. 

“I want to,” he growls, hooking his fingers on her pubic bone. She yelps, her hips bucking involuntarily. 

He lowers his face and breathes hot air over her swollen clit and she shudders. He licks, up from her center, curling his fingers as his tongue maintains firm, even pressure. 

He pulls his fingers out and she moans, arching her back. She angles her clit above his nose as he plunges his tongue into her. He smiles into her center, taking pleasure in tasting her sweet arousal. 

Moving his tongue back to her throbbing bundle of nerves he drives his fingers back to their original positions, pumping them rhythmically. 

“Oh god,” she moans, louder than she normally allows herself, her eyes closing in anticipated ecstasy. 

“..Baby..Yes” she gasps as he works. 

She grips his hair firmly in her hands and wails, “Oh god… Mulder… I’m gonna...” She clenches her jaw and suddenly orders, “Wait, Mulder stop.” 

She sits up quickly, her eyes clenched shut. 

He freezes, and she falls back onto the couch. Looking up, he sees her tense body, chest heaving, hands balled in little fists over her eyes. 

“Scully, what is it?” 

She inhales sharply, then exhales intentionally long and slow. She pulls her hands away and places them on her stomach. 

“N-nothing, it’s nothing,” she half laughs, but he notices tears in her eyes. “I just–” she pauses for a moment, breathing, looking at the ceiling. 

“I just want to take care of you now,” she says sitting up, reaching for the swelling bulge inside his pants. 

She kisses him and unbuttons his pants swiftly, yanking them down with uncharacteristic fervor. 

“Hold on, baby,” he says, stilling her hands with his. He cranes his neck to meet her gaze. 

“What’s going on?” he whispers, scanning her face for any hint to what she might be feeling. 

“Nothing,” she spouts defensively, “I just want to take care of you now, is that so wrong?” 

He almost smiles at the sight of her raised eyebrows and tone that, without a doubt, signaled annoyance. But he doesn’t. He does nothing. He just looks at her, gazing into her wet cobalt eyes flicking back and forth, uncomfortable being so seen. 

She huffs and sits back on the couch, grabbing a pillow off the floor to squeeze over herself. With furrowed brow she stares straight ahead, determined to not be the first to speak. 

“Scully,” he whispers, reaching for her hand, “please talk to me.” 

She says nothing, but he notices her eyebrow begin to arch and bottom lip begin to quiver. 

“You know what, we don’t have to talk about it. Why don’t I go make us something hot to drink,” he says squeezing her hand, beginning to stand up. 

“Mulder–” she starts, her voice dripping with guilt. She pushes her face into the pillow. 

He sits back down and watches her patiently, trying not to overwhelm her with his presence– trying his best to do what she needs. He was never sure what exactly she needed, it changed on a moment’s notice. Sometimes she wanted space and to be left alone when she was upset, and sometimes she desperately needed to be held. He never seemed to get it right, but he never stopped trying. 

“I just–” she starts, her voice cracking so she takes a breath. “I have never felt the way I do with you before,” she says slowly, choosing every word with care. 

“Is that good?” he asks.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yes, it’s good, you make me feel–” she pauses as if suddenly watching a memory replay like a movie reel in her mind, “amazing, Mulder.” She breathes. “And it’s,” she pauses again, “scary.” 

“Okay,” he answers, attempting to relay understanding but only succeeding in revealing fear. 

“No Mulder, I- I don’t mean that in a bad way. Fuck– this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.” She looks away, picking at her nails, arms still wrapped around the pillow. 

“Scully, I’m listening,” he begins softly. “I just care about you so much and the thought of hurting you makes me—”

“Oh god, Mulder, you're not hurting me,” she says pressing her face into the fabric again. 

They are quiet for a moment. Then Mulder begins, his voice so gentle it’s almost inaudible, “Are you scared to,” he struggles for the word, “finish?” 

She doesn’t answer immediately, then, without lifting her face up she answers a muffled, “Yes.” 

“Scully, why—”

Suddenly, she lifts her head up and nearly shouts, “Because I’m horrible! You care so much about me and put your entire being into making sure I have everything I could possibly need and I can’t even accept it. I’m too stuck in my own stupid head.” She rubs the skin between her brows angrily then exhales. “I’ve never … come with someone, so I don’t know what that would look like, and because I can’t plan out how it would go in my head I’m petrified of even letting it happen. I get so close then it’s like a siren goes off in my brain and I shut down.” 

She exhales quickly, red flooding her now tear soaked cheeks. Instant regret washing over her like a tidal wave. 

“Come here,” Mulder whispers, pulling her small body into his own. She lays her head against his chest and wipes the salt from her eyes. 

“This isn’t just some temporary thing for me, Scully,” he starts. “I’m in this. It doesn’t have to all be perfect right now. You can take all the time you need.” 

She swallows hard and squeezes his hand. 

“And, if this means I’ll get extra attention when we’re,” he shakes her in his arms, “then I’m definitely not opposed.” 

She laughs, loud and hearty, and he smiles. 

“Shut up, Mulder,” she says, pulling his fingers to her lips, kissing them through a smile. 

He grins and kisses her tousled hair, “I’ll go grab a drink and maybe we can watch a movie.” He stands up, but is stopped when his arm doesn’t follow his momentum. 

Gripping his forearm with both her hands she sticks out a puffy lip and whines, “I don’t wanna stop altogether.” He obediently sits back down. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

“I want,” she crawls up onto her knees, positioning her body to face him, “you.” She finds his gaze and leans in slowly, meeting his lips with a special kind of tenderness. 

He can’t help but moan into her open mouth as she unbuttons his pants once again, quickly finding and freeing his tumid length. She pulls away and maintains eye contact as she spits on his florid head, massaging the moisture in with her delicate hands. 

“God,” he moans, letting his eyes close and head fall back. She wraps her plump lips around his head and sucks, hollowing her cheeks. She hums around his arousal as she begins to move, taking him in as deep as she can, tracing her manicured fingers along his most sensitive skin underneath. 

“I’m getting close,” he groans, his eyes still closed, knowing that if he were to even glance at her there’d been no controlling his emanating explosion. 

She sits up, and moves towards him, on her knees once again. With her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself, she straddles him, positioning her center just above his stiff arousal. 

Wrapping one hand around his length, keeping the other on his shoulder, she slides down slowly, taking him completely in. She lets out one, long, hot breath, closing her eyes. 

She stays still a moment, breathing to help relax her inner walls. She feels his thighs flush with the bottom of her ass and squirms slightly to find the most comfortable position. 

Suddenly she lifts up, then plows back down again, causing herself to cry out. Instinctively his hands go to her throat and to her clit. At contact with her forbidden bundle of nerves he pulls back. 

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against her parted lips, gripping her waist instead.

She responds by thrusting her tongue into his mouth, scratching her fingernails along his scalp, gripping chunks of hair at the base of his neck. Mulder moves both hands to her waist, and wraps both wide hands around her, his fingers almost touching around her spine. He pulls her down onto him, with every crack of their flesh she whimpers–a whimper growing higher and higher in pitch. 

He watches her, analyzing her scrunched face. She is holding back, he knows it. He smiles, then suddenly groans surprisingly loudly, “Oh my god I’m gonna come.” 

She nods and leans to kiss him, but before their lips can meet he’s screaming, “Oh god, oh GOD, SCULLAY, yes yEs, YES!” 

She stops meeting his movements, and simply watches his foreign contorted face. Her body relaxes as he milks himself, whimpering in her ear like a puppy. 

He throws his head back letting out a loud moan before collapsing into the leather, smiling, his chest heaving. 

He looks at her, tilting his head at her perplexed look. 

He sits up and in her ear whispers, “C’mon Scully, I thought this was a judgment free zone.” 

She pulls her head back and looks at him, a toothy grin plastered across his face, his neck pulsing with suppressed laughter. Suddenly she bursts, peels of laughter erupting from deep within her belly. He joins her, throwing his head back as a raspy laugh escapes from his throat. 

“I thought you were serious,” she wheezes, wiping new tears from her eyes. 

He drops his head on her shoulder, his forehead bouncing up and down with her continued hysterics. He smiles into her warm skin.

“There’s no way you can embarrass yourself now,” he says, lifting up to look at her. She smiles uninhibited and wide, running her thumb back and forth against his flushed cheek. Her smile disappears in a flash and she looks at him with a palpable intent. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. He tucks a piece of loose auburn hair behind her ear in response, and she kisses him, pressing her lips flush to his with a languid inhale. She presses her center into him, harder than before, and moves her hands back to the base of his neck 

She pulls him towards her and he follows, gently guiding her down onto the couch. 

“Are you sur–”

“I might stop you,” she quickly adds, closing her eyes, squirming to get settled beneath him. 

He kisses her. Then he kisses her chin. Then her neck. Collarbones. Breasts. Stomach. Reaching her center he sighs, her musky warmth radiating across his content face. He licks slowly up her folds, tasting their mixture, cleaning the dripping mess cascading down her velvet thighs. He plunges two fingers in and beckons with three quick pulses. She arches her back and rakes her fingers through his hair, pressing her tips into his skull. 

“That feels so...good...ah,” he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks. She is getting close, he can see it. Between her gyrating hips, frantic fingers, and desperate moans, he knew this was her precipice. 

Working her, pumping his fingers, sucking her clit, he slithered his free hand up the blanket, lonely fingers interlacing with hers. She squeezed his hand and arched even more, her controlled breaths turning into frantic pants. 

“You can do this, baby,” he coaxes into her. “Let go. Just let go.” 

She squirms, and for a second he thinks she’s going to stop him, but just before he stops his motions completely her thighs tense around his face. She arches, her upper body completely off the couch, as if someone attached a string to her sternum and pulled. 

“Oh goddddd” she chokes, her toes curled into his shoulder blades, thighs quivering around him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “you are so beautiful.” She was. He nearly forgot what he was doing marveling at her, completely engulfed in her own pleasure. 

She exhales and falls onto the cushion, every muscle loose. He places his warm palm over her clit– pressing ever so lightly, feeling the remaining pulses– kissing away the excess mess inside her thighs. 

She places a hand on her stomach and the other on her chest, trying unsuccessfully to control her breath. Her eyes stay closed, a slight furrow between her brows. He lets her lay like this for some time, cleaning her gently with his tongue. 

Eventually he breaks the silence. “How are you feeling?” 

She opens her eyes and to his surprise tears scatter down her cheeks. 

“Shit, Scully I’m so–”

“No–” she interrupts him, “that was amazing.” 

He moves off the couch, so he kneels beside her head flat against the leather. He wipes away what tears he can. “Then why–” 

“This just happens sometimes.” She clears her throat, “When one releases pent up tension it can lead to an expulsion of emotion as well.” 

“Scully,” he admonishes, “you can’t say ‘expulsion’ naked on my couch. It just isn’t fair.” 

She laughs and he takes her hand in his, kissing each finger, leaving seven years pent up devotion, admiration, and love scattered in droplets across her skin. 

She closes her eyes and sighs, taking in the moment, taking in him. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For helping me let go.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but instead kisses her. A kiss tender and slow. 

“I’m going to go make some tea.” He stands up and walks to the kitchen. She watches his shamelessly bare ass scurry around the corner. “Pick out something to watch.” He calls back to her as the water boils. 

He returns to her curled, holding a pillow, fast asleep. He places his favorite blanket over her small, glowing body, and kisses her forehead. He puts on his boxers and sits on the floor against the couch, laying his head back just barely against her thigh. 

He woke with a stiff neck, but a content Scully, and he was happy to give up a good night's sleep if it meant seeing her smile and stretch the way she did when the sun crept through his crooked blinds that morning. Yeah, he’d give that up any day.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe you got here! thank youuuu


End file.
